


Hey Asshole, I Love You

by ashilrak, TheInevitableSense



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Ficlet Collection, M/M, Minimal warnings, Untagged unless requested
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2018-12-01 19:52:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 19,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11493582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashilrak/pseuds/ashilrak, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInevitableSense/pseuds/TheInevitableSense
Summary: A collection of the jamilton ficlets I've posted on tumblr





	1. Partners in Crime

**Author's Note:**

> Title was given to me by Parker @theinevitablesense

It only ever happened because of a project they had been forced to work together on. Thomas couldn’t even tell you class it was for, just that at some point he and Alex had been hunched over a computer screen looking at forgeries compared to original paintings.

It was Alex who said it, and Thomas who couldn’t get it out of his head, “it’s funny how what word you use effects the value and perception - a reproduction is valid, a forgery is not. John has a couple that look like this in his room. They’re not exact or anything - more in the style of - but still.”

Thomas’ parents had been big into art when he was younger, and he had inherited quite the collection. He wasn’t sure what it was that urged him to do it, but he came back from winter break with a carefully packaged Renoir. The project was over, but Thomas still had Alex’s number, and within the day John had the painting.

John had been mystified, of course, but he tried his best. His best was too good, too clean, too new. Alex recognized it for what it was, and after a couple of internet searched, the fresh painting was sitting in the oven.

It was ridiculous, and Thomas’ eyes kept drifting toward the original - questioning what had made him do it in the first place. But then Alex had grabbed John’s version, and side-by-side, they were identical. 

Thomas’ first thought had been to burn it, and Alex’s had been to sell it.

“After all, wouldn’t people trust art coming from your family’s collection - you could just pass it off as trying to get rid of your parents’ memory in the house or something. I don’t know, don’t rich people eat up that sort of thing?”

John hadn’t wanted to be associated with it more than the bare minimum, but he accepted the checks and canvases and paintings as they came in and kept painting, saying, “if this is what keeps me from being the starving artist stereotype, so be it.”

Alex was the brains behind the operation - he’d be the one to read auction records and see the invisible lines of demand for artists and trends and figure out what prices the pieces would go for. Thomas was the face - the trust fund kid in a sharp suit not appreciating the true value of his parents’ collection.

Thomas couldn’t keep people away from Monticello, and he couldn’t keep the paintings there either. He got a penthouse in the city and kept the paintings there - gifted Alex with the key and lease for the man’s birthday.

Five years of sharing a huge secret implied a level of trust, and so it was Alex Thomas turned to when he felt his worries and stress bubbling up from underneath the surface. Alex would open the door or answer the phone as annoyed as ever, but then he’d soften and offer what comfort he could.

At some point people started to assume they were in a relationship - for what other reason would they have to stay in touch and live together when Thomas was in the city. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford a place to stay, after all. 

There was no formal announcement, but the assumptions were proved correct when one day Alex and Thomas started to wear matching rings.


	2. Doctor/Companion AU

There were always those days when the Doctor would find himself alone, skipping through space and time, trying to find the next Something. Space was vast and time was on a different scale completely. Those were the days the Doctor would put less flare into his motions and mechanically flip the switched and press the buttons on the TARDIS.

The TARDIS knew him well by now, and she new he was only seeking a place to be or a thing to do or a person to meet. The familiar sound filled his ears, and he took a small comfort in that before there was the usual thud that accompanied the landing.

He opened the door, hoping he was somewhere discreet, and stepped outside onto white sand. There was a sea breeze in his hair and an unpleasant odor filling his nostrils. This wasn’t a vacation spot, but something else.

The Doctor took in a deep breath and looked around. 

He was somewhere in the Carribbean, Earth. The ships he could see in the distance gave him a general idea of the time - mid-1700s. 

He took another step forward, feeling the sun beating down on his shoulders. His arm reached into his jacket when he heard a small cough. He looked over to find a small boy, human, peering up at him with wide eyes.

The Doctor removed his hand from his jacket and smoothed down his front, “Uh, hello. Who are you? Where am I?”

The boy didn’t give him the smile he expected, and his face was far too guarded for his age, “Alexander Hamilton. How do you not know where you are? Who are you?”

“Well met, Alexander Hamilton. And I got lost, is all. You can call me the Doctor.” He offered his hand. The boy was slow to take it, but his grip was stronger than expected.

“Alright, Mr. Doctor. Well, you happen to be on the island of St. Croix.”

The Doctor was about to say something when he heard the sound of shouting approaching. 

Alexander jumped, and the Doctor made a split-second decision, “Alexander Hamilton, would you like to leave here? You only have a second to decide, I’m afraid.”

He had expected some sort of delay or hesitance, but the boy only nodded and stuck out his chin, “Sure, Mr. Doctor.”

The Doctor smiled, “Then follow me.”


	3. CAN’T STOP WON’T STOP NOT SURE HOW TO STOP (WHY STOP)

Watching Alexander from a distance was an experience Thomas didn’t know how to describe. The man seemed to leak a sort of manic energy Thomas hadn’t seen anywhere else. He flitted from one space to the next, leaving a new problem to deal with in his wake.

The problems were never simple, but the brilliance that Alexander managed to capture in his words more than made up for it. The concern was that Alexander never stopped - he kept going no matterwhat was in his way.

Thomas had heard about Hamilton prior to working with him, James had made sure of it. James had gone on and on about Washington’s favorite that spouted more nonsense than sense, but he had also talked about an intelligent mind capable of twisting and using words with a talent he had never seen before.

Thomas didn’t know what to expect the first time he came face-to-face with Hamilton, but there was something underwhelming about the man’s small stature and introduction.

His poor impression of Hamilton didn’t last very long, and his amazement at what the man did turned into irritation when he realized that Hamilton was not on his side. 

Working in the same space lead the raised voices and debates turning into arguments riddled with taunts about their personal lives. Any confrontation was limited to the times they had an audience, and their feud in private was carried out through whispers and ink. 

Thomas was a busy man, but he knew how to take a break and step away from the chaos of life. 

Hamilton did not, and with that realization, Hamilton become Alexander. He was working late, one evening, squeezing in the last of his correspondence before setting out. 

In a silent space, the quietest of sounds were magnified, and his own footsteps offered a backdrop to the scrathing of Hamiton’s quill. The door to Hamilton’s office was open, and Thomas didn’t resist the temptation to peer into the room. 

Hamilton was writing, as he always was, and didn’t stop when Thomas knocked twice on the door. 

He took a step into the room, and still Hamilton did not look up. 

When Thomas did get Hamilton’s attention, he was an inch from the desk Hamilton was bent over. He cleared his throat, and Hamilton said nothing and glared. 

Thomas took in the dark circles under the man’s eyes and the ink stains on Hamilton’s fingers and came to a decision.

He smiled, “Hamilton, I’m taking a break from this stale air and going to Monticello for a short reprieve.”

Hamilton’s eyes narrowed, “Why are you telling me this?”

Thomas leaned in over the desk, “because you’re coming with me, Alexander.”


	4. yall, fuck, Shamu, dismemberment, milkshake

Aaron was a peaceful human being who just wanted to drink his milkshake and be left to his own devices. He didn’t get to see Theodosia often, but when he did, he liked to treasure their time together. 

Aaron did not often get what he wanted, and Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson walking in together and claiming a table too near his own for comfort was proof of that. 

He sighed.

Theodosia quirked a brow, “what’s wrong?”

“The world hates me.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

He looked over to where Thomas and Alex sat, peering over their menus to glare at each other, “those two right there hate each other. That’s going to either end in a shouting match or dismemberment.”

Theo laughed and shook their head, “You’re so ridiculous.”

“No, I’m one-hundred percent serious. You don’t know them like I do.”

She shrugged, “they look like they’re on a date to me.”

Aaron took in a deep breath, and struggled to stop himself from banging his head on the table when he heard Hamilton’s familiar voice call out, “Fuck you, Jefferson.”

“You were saying?” 

She smiled, “different people have different ways of expressing their love, dear.”

The next twenty minutes were silent on Hamilton and Jefferson’s end, and Aaron sent up a quick prayer. 

Of course, that was not meant to last, and a familiar cough was heard. Aaron watched as Theo smiled up at Jefferson. Thomas returned the gesture, “Hey y’all, I know this might be odd, but I’m trying to prove to my boyfriend that most people know who Shamu is and that he lives under a rock.”

Aaron choked, “boyfriend?”

Thomas’ eyes widened, “Burr? You aren’t supposed to be here!”


	5. I’ve been fucking the neighbour, okay?!

It wasn’t something that came naturally to him. Cheating was one of those things that had always left the sourest of tastes in Thomas’ mouth. But month after month of nothing but the shortest of greetings and the faintest of touches left Thomas wanting.

If he couldn’t turn to his husband, where else did he have to go?

The answer was the strong arms of George Washington - the neighbor they had joked was welcome to a threesome anytime upon moving in. Washington was a quiet type. He went to work every day and came home to his dogs. Thomas suspected there had been a marriage of some sort in the past judging by the pictures of a woman and kids that were on his shelves. He didn’t ask many questions when he was riding the man’s dick and calling him daddy on the wide leather sofa that took up the majority of the living room.

Thomas stayed up for Alex, something he hadn’t done in months, intent on getting some sort of reaction out of the other man. Alexander had always been the type of hyperfocus on something for an extended period of time. For many years, that something had been Thomas, and he wasn’t above admitting he missed the attention.

Being the center of Alexander Hamilton’s world was a hell of a thing.

Alexander entered the house with practiced silence, toeing off his shoes and hanging up his coat with the upmost care. 

Thomas coughed, and Alexander startled, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He watched as Alexander calmed, the smallest of smiles crossing his husband’s face. “Thomas, didn’t expect to see you.”

Alexander was relaxed. There was a familiar flow in the man’s limbs and movements Thomas hadn’t seen in months. It was the relaxed and confidant walk of a man who had just had the fuck of his life, and judging by the Alexander’s careful steps, Alexander wasn’t the one doing the fucking.

He had planned on approaching it with more care, but the realization of where Alexander had been had him spitting out the words, “I’ve been fucking the neighbor.”

Alexander froze.

Thomas continued, “okay. That’s it. That’s what I have to say. That’s why I stayed up late, waiting for you to come home. I wanted to make sure I told you, since you’ve barely looked at me. I thought you had just gotten bored of me, maybe realized that marriage wasn’t you thing. I told myself you were just neck deep in project after project, since you’re incapable of turning one down.” He took a step forward. “But no, instead you come home looking like you just had someone balls deep in your ass not ten minutes ago.”

Alexander blinked.

“Is that all? Are you not going to say anything? Thomas was yelling, but he didn’t care.

“Which neighbor?”

“What?”

“You know,” Alex stepped closer, backing him against the wall. Thomas felt a familiar stir of arousal, but he pushed it down. “Who is it? Who are you fucking?”

He took in a breath, “Washington. George. The hot one.”

Alex smirked, “me too.”


	6. That’s it. Touch yourself for me.

It wasn’t often that Alexander Hamilton sought Thomas Jefferson out. In fact, it was a rare enough occurrence that Jefferson’s secretaries were too surprised to do anything more than gape as he walked straight into Jefferson’s office.

Alexander didn’t have a set image that he had expected to walk into when he opened the door, but if he had, it would not have been Jefferson sitting in his chair, letting out quiet moans as his hand moved up and down his hard cock.

He was not above admitting (in private, to himself) that Jefferson was an attractive man who had invaded his fantasies more than once. Alexander collected himself and shut the door behind him, startling Jefferson with the noise.

Jefferson’s eyes were wide, and his hand stilled, the head of his leaking cock visible in his fist. Hamilton gave a small bow, “now, don’t let me stop you.”

Jefferson didn’t move. Hamilton raised a brow in a sort of challenge, and Jefferson recognized it for what it was, his competitive streak coming into play. Alexander smirked when Jefferson leaned his head back against the leather chair and let out a low moan, not breaking eye-contact.

Alexander took a step forward. “That’s it. Touch yourself for me.” His voice was deep, and he felt a familiar heat building. “You look so nice like that.”

Jefferson groaned, his hand starting to move faster.

“Just like that, baby.”

A sort of cross between a gasp and a moan left Jefferson’s mouth, and soon the man’s hand was covered with his own release. 

Hamilton smirked. “I had intended to discuss business, but I always appreciate a show. I’ll come back later.”

He turned on his heel, but before his hand could turn the handle, Jefferson’s voice called out, “no, stay.”


	7. Come over here and make me.

Meetings and arguments got heated when strong opinions and heated words were being thrown around as if they held no value. Words could pierce like no other weapon could, and they were something that Alexander Hamilton had mastered at a very young age. 

“Shut up!” Jefferson was yelling, standing, hands balled in fists at his sides. “Just shut up already!”

The fire inside of Hamilton was still burning bright, their debate not yet concluded, satisfaction not yet found for any party. Hamilton took a step closer to Jefferson, pressed himself against the hardwood of the table separating them, smirked and said, “come over here and make me.”

It didn’t matter that they weren’t alone in the room, it didn’t matter that they had an arrangement with rules that were set in place for the better of them both. All that mattered was that Jefferson had been hurt, and that Hamilton had issued a challenge Jefferson intended to meet head on. 

Jefferson reached a hand out across the table, stretching himself over the width, grabbed a fistful of Hamilton’s shirt and tie. The fabric wrinkled in his grip, and the spark in Hamilton’s eyes grey brighter. There was a moment of silence, of questioning, before Hamilton nodded.

“Fine,” Jefferson said, “I will.”

The others in the room, those watching the tension build by the second, had expected the hand not entangled in Hamilton’s shirt to move in some manner that resulted in a bruise on Hamilton’s face. Instead, they were all filled in shock when, instead of bringing unwanted harm to his self-declared rival, Jefferson closed the small space separating them and kissed Hamilton.


	8. Wait a minute. Are you jealous?

Alexander was brilliant, they were both brilliant. But while Alexander basked in the attention his brilliance attracted, Thomas preferred to stay on the sidelines. He’d act as he needed to act, do what he needed to do, but Thomas did so while speaking as little as possible to those outside of his trusted circle.

He reached down and squeezed Alexander’s hand, eyes focused on a distant wall. Alexander’s hand was warm in his own, and Thomas could feel the little jerks when Alexander made a point. Alexander had always been one to talk with his hands, reiterate his words with gestures. Thomas kept his grip firm, and Alexander let him. A feeling of warmth filled his chest.

Twenty minutes later, the crowd had drifted on, for the most part. People loved to listen and watch Alexander, but they could only stay so long before becoming overwhelmed or offended or tired or some combination therefore of. 

One woman had stayed behind - the trophy wife of one of the senators. Thomas had met her before, had conversation with her, had noticed the brilliance she kept hidden beneath her mask of false lashes and red lipstick and light laughter.

Catherine Garrettson, preferred Kitty in casual company, was stepping closer to his Alexander. Thomas gripped Alexander’s hand tighter, got a worried look in response. He shook his head, pressed closer, and focused on the woman instead of the wall.

Thomas could see the look in Kitty’s eye, could see that she wanted his Alexander. He kept calm, silent, letting Alexander finish his point.

It was amazing how when one was quiet and still, people ignored you in favor of more exciting things.

Kitty’s hand reached out and settled on Alexander’s arm, a casual touch that didn’t cause any reaction in his husband, but a casual touch that Thomas saw.

Senator Garrettson joined them before Kitty could act further, and once she was swept away, Alexander turned to and continued to explain his point.

Thomas smiled and leaned down to cut Alexander off with a kiss. “I love you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kitty Garrettson looking at them with a look of surprise. 

Alexander blinked. “What was that for?”

“Some people don’t seem to realize you’re mine.”

Alexander blinked again, and then smiled. “Wait a minute, are you jealous?”

“Jealous might not be the right word, but sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

Arms wrapped around his neck. “You don’t need to be jealous, babe. I’m right here, with you. I love you. We’re married.”

“I know.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Alex’s mouth, “I know that, you know that, but I don’t think everyone does. Or rather, they like to conveniently forget.”

Alexander laughed.


	9. you're no more than a mercy fuck

He finished the last button on his shirt and grabbed for his tie. “Thanks.”

Thomas sat up, clutching the sheet to his chest. “What do you mean, thanks?”

“I don’t have a dictionary with me.” Alex shrugged. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t use it.”

Thomas’ eyes narrowed. “Are you just going to leave me here? We have a meeting in less than two hours!”

“What’s your point?” Alex fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“You’re serious.” Thomas’ voice lowered. “You’re completely seriously. We just spent the last three does going at it like fucking rabbits and you’re just going to act like nothing happened.”

Alex looked over to Thomas, taking in the messy hair, marked up neck, and the hand gripping the sheet. “Uh, what did you expect me to do?”

“Stay? Talk to me? Pretend you actually have some sort of heart underneath your caffeinated and anxious workaholic exterior?”

He snorted. “Dude, you’re asking for a heart. You’re no more than a mercy fuck. You were begging for it.”

Thomas blinked twice. “A mercy fuck? You’re calling me a mercy fuck?”

Alex shrugged on his jacket. “Yeah, I am. I’ll see you at the meeting.”

“You’re kidding me.”

He opened the door. “Nope, seeya sweetheart.”

The door slammed shut behind him.


	10. Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone.

The note was crumpled in Thomas’ hand - handwritten on a ripped up piece of printer paper. He didn’t know what to make of it. He had shown it to James, who had raised a brow and chuckled, telling him to throw it out and move on with his life.

He had tossed it in the garbage can, but fished it out a moment later.

Thomas knew that handwriting. He hadn’t seen it in years. It was the curl in the tail of the g and the cross in the t that stoked a fire in his heart. Thomas remembered tracing those same letters over and over again with his fingers - asking his crush for the lecture notes as an excuse for conversation like some sick schoolgirl.

He had grown a lot since then, they both had. They worked together now, in different departments on different sides of the building. So close, so far away.

The paper was shoved into his pocket, and he leaned against the railing of the bridge. The same bridge that had caused so many problems for them, so many memories.

It was this bridge that Thomas had first seen Alex - had knocked into his shoulder and gotten a ten minute long lecture about respecting those around him. He had been confused at first, but it had taken less than a minute for him to become enchanted. That was the last moment had had known before his mind became full of Alexander Hamilton.

They had their first kiss on that bridge. Their first I love you. The proposal. The break up.

It was funny how people changed.

It was funny how people stayed the same.

Thomas swallowed around the sob that threatened to make its way up his throat. He could sense another presence beside him. 

He didn’t turn around. “Hamilton.”

A finger brushed his own. “Jefferson.”

Thomas took in a breath. “Why are you here? We haven’t talked for years, Alexander, years. You broke up with me, told me Eliza was better for your future, and then I never heard from you again. You blocked me on fucking twitter, Alexander.”

“I missed you.”

The energy faded out of him in one swoop. He rested his hand on top of Alexander’s. “I missed you too.”


	11. You are the reason I can't be happy

The door crashed into the wall, and Eliza startled, almost falling from the window seat. She clutched her hand to her chest and looked up to find Lord Jefferson standing in the doorway, arms braced against the door frame, eyebrows furrowed together. “It’s you. You’re the reason my life is falling apart. You are the reason I can’t be happy.”

His voice was wrecked.

Eliza stood up, setting her book to the side. She fisted her hands in her skirt and walked closer. “What are you talking about, Lord Jefferson? I have done nothing to you. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Jefferson closed his eyes and bit his lips. When he opened them again, Eliza felt something tighten in her chest at the pain she saw there. Jefferson took in a shaky breath. “You have taken away the last good thing in my life. Haven’t done anything, ha.”

He straightened his spine and shut the door behind him. Eliza twisted the fabric in her hands tighter. “What do you mean? I can’t apologize or repair any damages I have made if I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lord Jefferson.”

Jefferson took something out of his pocket and opened his hand to reveal a simple gold band. “This was given to me, a love token.”

Eliza nodded. “That’s lovely.”

“They weren’t like you and me, Miss. Schuyler. They weren’t born into this, I know you’re looking at it thinking if it was given to you the suitor would be laughed off of your estate, but I look at this and see the hours of effort that went into it. They spent years working their way up, getting to a place where they could be more than an affair in the shadows.” Jefferson sneered. “This ring was the first thing they could give me, the first sign that progress was being made, that our love was close to being able to be recognized.” He closed his hand and shoved it back into our pocket.

“I don’t get what you’re saying, Lord Jefferson. Do I need to find someone to take you to your room?”

Jefferson laughed, a harsh sound. He shook his head and smiled. “No, there is nothing you can do - nothing that you will do, anyway.”

She let go of her skirt and reached out a hand, attempting to comfort. “What do you mean?”

“This ring would be on my finger right now, you know, next to the other ones I would have been gifted, would have been proud to wear. I want nothing more than to wear these rings, Miss. Schuyler.”

“Then why don’t you?”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, not letting go when Eliza tried to pull it back. His thumb ran over her engagement ring. “Because you decided to go running to your father and ask for the beautiful soldier with the beautiful eyes and charming grin, the poor man whose words hypnotized those around him. And your father just couldn’t resist your pleading eyes, could he? Within the week you had your soldier wrapped in a bow, scraping before the delicate lady who demanded his attention.”

She gasped, and Jefferson’s grin grew wider. “You didn’t think that the soldier might have other wishes and desires, did you? You didn’t think that the soldier couldn’t say no to Lord Schuyler? You didn’t think of my feelings when you announced your engagement to promising and brilliant Colonel Hamilton, did you?”

Eliza could feel the tears start to burn at the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t know.” She hiccuped. “I didn’t know, I promise I didn’t know.”

“That’s because you didn’t ask.”


	12. Is this the only way to save our kingdoms? Not that you’re not lovely. I just don’t feel ready.

Thomas knew that he and his betrothed should have been in reverse positions. He should be the one standing, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve, as he waited for the guards to announce their guests. But, somehow, it was Thomas who found himself in the role of the virgin being revealed to their future spouse. 

He bit his tongue between his teeth as they approached the doors separating him from his future. The kingdom was relying on him, there wasn’t room for more than one ruling family in Virginia, and his marriage was the alternative to war. They couldn’t afford a war.

The doors opened and Thomas stepped forward into a grand room. Lord and Lady Washington were standing tall and proud, two young men at their sides. Thomas went into a bow. “Lord and Lady Washington, thank you for welcoming me into your kingdom.”

Lord Washington nodded. “It is our pleasure.”

The guards who accompanied him stepped into place beside him.

Lord Washington started to speak again, “now, this might be a little unorthodox, but the situation is a little unorthodox. I have no sons of my own, nor daughters, yet you are to marry into my family to combine our kingdoms.”

Thomas swallowed, confused, but nodded. “Of course, your Majesty.”

“I have brought with me today the two young men I consider as my sons. Traditionally, you would marry the heir, Jack. However, I know that marriage is a lifelong commitment, and I have asked Alexander to join me in case you find yourself preferring his company.”

“That’s very kind of you, your Majesty.”

Lord Washington smiled. “I have no wish for you to hate it here, this will be your home now. The Queen and I will see you again in a couple hours at our evening meal. You are free to do as you wish, but I suggest you use the time to get to know Jack and Alexander. The guards will be acting as escorts, though more as a formality than anything else. You will be marrying one of these men, and the wedding will take place in three months’ time.”

Thomas bowed again. “Thank you, your Majesty.”

The Washingtons left the room, and Thomas found himself in a room with Jack and Alexander, the two young men staring at him. 

Thomas smiled, opened his mouth to say something, but before a word could leave his lips the taller of Washington’s sons stepped forward. “Is this the only way to save our kingdoms? Not that you’re not lovely. I just don’t feel ready.” The man started to pace. 

His smile fell flat and he nodded. “Yes. If I am not married I do not know what will happen. Our kingdoms must be merged, and this is the best way. My sisters’ marriages are already arranged.”

“I see.” The man froze. “Well, I guess you’re left with Alexander. I can’t do this. Good luck.”

The man, who Thomas assumed to be Jack, left the room, door slamming shut behind him. He blinked and looked toward Alexander, who’s eyes were wide. “What do you suppose we do now?” 

Alexander shrugged. “Get married, I guess. I’m sorry to say that Jackie’s the heir. I’m just kinda here.” Alexander took a seat on the sofa. “You can sit down, if you like. We might as well get to know each other.”

The sofa was stiff. He took in a deep breath, let it out, and said, “Hello, I’m Thomas Jefferson, and I guess we’re going to be getting married.”

Alexander chuckled. “Yes, I suppose we are. I’m Alexander Hamilton. Before you ask, I was formally adopted by the Washington’s after the war. He wanted me on as an advisor, and the best way to get around the complaints of my lack of relations was to claim me as part of the royal family.”

“Will I become Thomas Hamilton, then?”

“I suppose you will.” Alexander smiled. “Pardon me for saying so, but you’re quite stunning.”


	13. Can you please help me reach the book up there? I’m too short to reach it and you’re the hottest tall person I’ve seen around

“I bet you won’t do it.”

Alex looked up from his computer. “What are you talking about?”

John shrugged and looked over to book shelves. “That one kid that’s always in here, I’ve seen you mooning over him one too many times.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

John smirked. “You obviously think he’s hot, or something. And I bet you won’t ask him out. Your infamous Alexander Hamilton charms have failed you because you’re actually attracted to someone.”

“What are getting at?” He clicked between tabs, settling on one about the effects of changes in internet law effecting new firms on wall street. “I think plenty off people are attractive, what’s so different about Jefferson?”

“Ha!” John leaned forward. “You know his name!”

“I know a lot of people’s names.”

John shrugged. “Fine. Whatever. Anyway, I bet you a week’s worth of coffee that you won’t ask him out.”

“You know what.” Alex slammed his computer shut. “Fine. I’ll be write back.”

Alex walked the familiar path through the maze of shelves and stopped about a foot or two away from Jefferson, who was skimming through a book, faint music coming from the headphones around his neck. “Hey.”

Jefferson startled, slammed the book shut, and looked up. “Uh, hello.”

“So, uh, can you please help me reach the book up there?” He pointed toward the top shelf. “ I’m too short to reach it and you’re the hottest tall person I’ve seen around.” 

Jefferson coughed. “Uh, right. Uh, the Lincoln biography?”

He followed where his finger pointed and shrugged. “Sure.”

Jefferson reached up for the book and if his eyes drifted down the the sliver of skin that revealed itself, that was no one’s business but his own. Jefferson handed him the book. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, hot stuff.” He winked.

Jefferson coughed again and looked away. “Right. Uh, no problem.”

Jefferson turned to walk away, book held to his chest, and Alex reached out to grab his wrist. “Hey, one more favor?”

“Uh?”

Alex smiled the smile he knew had most girls fighting to catch his eye. “Can I have your number?”

Jefferson looked to the ground. “Um, I don’t, I mean.”

“It’s fine!” Alex held up his hands. “Don’t worry about it, that was super presumptuous of me. Have a good day, man.” 

“No, it’s not that.” Jefferson’s hand went to the back of his neck. “It’s just, uh, I don’t have a phone.”

Alex blinked. “You don’t have a phone?”

“Nah.” Jefferson waved a hand through the air. “Radiation, you know.”

“Oh my god. You’re one of those.” He snorted. “How about this, is email cool? Messaging apps? You’re really hot, I’m willing to suffer through weird means of communication if it means a possible date.”

“Oh dear. Yeah, fine, I guess. My email is just my school id, nothing too exciting.”

Alex smiled. “Great! Expect an email from me soon.”

“Right.”


	14. You want us to practice kissing?”

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and Alexander looked up to see Jefferson standing, hand fidgeting. “Hello?”

Thomas nodded. “Hi. So, you know how I’m paying you to pretend to be my boyfriend for family weekend?”

“Yeah, I’d be pretty ashamed of myself if I forgot to be honest.”

“Okay about that.”

Alex took a sip of coffee. “What about it?”

Thomas looked to the side, hand going to rub the back of his neck. “So, uh, we should probably practice, so it seems natural.”

“Practice what?” Alex leaned back into the chair and crossed his arms over his chest.”Holding hands? Should I learn your coffee order? Preferred pet names?”

Thomas laughed. “Basically, maybe kissing too.”

He raised a brow. “You want us to practice kissing?”

“I mean,” Thomas looked at the floor, “we don’t have to, but you know as well as I do that it would make it a lot less awkward if we figured that out,”

“But why would we have to kiss? I highly doubt your mom is gonna stand there and be like make-out in front of me to prove your relationship is real.”

Thomas snorted. “You don’t know my mom. But actually I’m more worried about my sister.”

“Why?”

Thomas shrugged and said, “she’s the type that takes all those aesthetic instagram pictures. Knowing her, she’s gonna want to do some random photoshoot type thing.”

“You want us to practice kissing on the off-chance your sister wants to take pictures of us kissing?” Alex stood up.

“I mean, when you say it like that, it sound stupid.”

He walked forward until he was too close for Thomas to ignore him. “Sounds to me like you just want to kiss me.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” Thomas looked at him. “But you know what, forget about it. Last time I try to be practical.”

Alex shook his head. “Nope, you’re not getting out of this one, Jefferson.”

“Thomas. Call me Thomas, remember, we’re fake boyfriends.”

“Right.” Alex’s eyes dropped down to Thomas’ mouth and he bit his lower lip. “So, practicing kissing, huh?” He looked back up to meet Thomas’ eyes. 

“Uh, yeah.” 

Alex took another step forward and rested a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “So, have you thought this out, or did you just expect us to figure it out?”

“Well, uh,” Thomas stumbled over the words, “you don’t really plan out a kiss, do you?”

“I do prefer jumping right into it.” He tilted his head up, went up on his toes, and captured Thomas’ lips with his own.


	15. You’ve locked yourself outside of your apartment and there’s a storm rolling in and I pity you so I’ll let you into mine

There were many things running through Thomas’ head when he saw his neighbor standing in front of his apartment door, yelling into his phone. Thomas’ mind was filled with the sweet images of the relaxing evening ahead of him, the first in many weeks. He had fresh ingredients waiting in his fridge, a playlist on his phone, and candles for a bath before bed. 

A crack of thunder filled the air before Thomas could unlock his door and he turned to face his neighbor just as the man hung up his phone and kicked the still-closed door. He took in a breath. “Hey, do you need help?”

His neighbor sighed and leaned his forehead against the door. “No, it’s fine. I’m locked out of my apartment. One of my friends knows how to pick locks, so I’m just trying to get a hold of him.”

“Right.” Thomas opened his door. There was another crack of thunder. “There’s a storm rolling in. Do you want to sit down or something while waiting for your friend?”

His neighbor looked at him for a moment and then stood up. “Sure. I’m Alex, by the way. Alexander Hamilton.”

“Thomas Jefferson.” He held the door open and let Alex walk in ahead of him. “I was planning on making dinner. Depending on how long you end up staying, I always make too much for one person.”

Alex toed off his shoes and set his bag down, fiddling with the phone in his hand and looking around the apartment. “Dinner sounds great. I’d say I’d provide drinks, but we might have to save that for another time.”

He hung up his coat. “Of course.”

“What are you making?” 

“Some sort of pasta.” Thomas walked into the kitchen and gestured to the breakfast bar for Alex to sit. “I usually let the ingredients guide me.”

Alex snorted. “You let the ingredients guide you? Really?”

He turned toward the fridge. “Hey, I don’t have to let you into my home or offer you food.”

“That’s fair.” Alex’s voice was quieter.

He grabbed the brita pitcher. “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, green juice, coconut water, and some wine if that’s more your speed.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Alex was looking down at his phone. “Thanks though.”

“Not a problem.” He grabbed the tomatoes and spinach from the fridge. “Have you gotten a hold of your friend yet?”

Alex shook his head. “No. He didn’t answer his phone earlier, and Herc said he hadn’t heard from him in a while. He hasn’t read any of my texts so who knows?”

Thomas nodded. “Do you have anyone else you can get a hold of to help?”

“Probably, but I don’t really want to bother them on a Friday night. It’d just end up with me staying at their place while waiting for John.”

He grabbed a pan. “Why don’t you call a locksmith?”

“Why would I pay someone to do what John will do for free?”

“Fair.” He turned on the stove. “Well, I’ve been told my couch is pretty comfortable if you end up not being able to get a hold of your guy.”

Alex smiled, and for the first time Thomas noticed Alex was attractive in that weird way - not conventional by any means, but still managed to catch his eye. “Thanks man, I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about. Just don’t make a habit of it, yeah?”

“Of course.” Alex laughed. “So, Thomas, what do you do?”

“I teach. What about you?”

Alex tapped his fingers on the granite counter top. “I work for Senator George Washington, actually.”

“That’s the guy that twitter is rallying behind, right?”

Alex laughed. “You know it, and you’re looking at the guy responsible.”

“Impressive.”

“I try.”

Before long, Thomas was pouring them both a glass of wine and setting two plates of pasta down. The conversation flowed, each prodding each other for details, and poking holes in opinions that came up. Their voices filled the room, and Thomas couldn’t remember the last time he had been so engaged in a conversation.

“Wait, so you’re telling me you actually had a student send you a dick pic?” Alex’s eyed were bright.

Thomas couldn’t contain the laughter and almost spilled his wine all over himself. “Yes! I assume, and hope, he had meant to send something else - the picture title was random - but oh my god I almost spat my coffee out over the poor freshman I was talking to when I opened it.”

“The freshie probably deserved it.”

“Hey!” Thomas shifted his weight forward. “That’s my student you’re talking about.”

Alex raised his hands. “I’m just saying.”

“Right.”

Alex took another sip of his wine and smirked. “You know, if it had been a dick pic from me it wouldn’t have been an accident.”

Thomas wasn’t successful in stopping himself from spitting the wine all over Alex that time.


	16. All the money in the world can’t make you happy. How am I supposed to?

The lives of the rich had always featured so heavily in media, surrounded Alex everywhere he went. They were seen on the billboards featuring handsome men with a rolex on their wrist and the signs with women covered in lace and dripping with diamonds. So distant, yet always shoved in his face.

For so long, it had seemed that a little more money would be the solution to all his problems. Money would have kept his dad with them, money would have gotten the medicine for his mom, money would help the feelings of inadequacy as he walked among his fellow students.

But, for the first time, as he stared at Thomas, he began to doubt that.

Thomas, who always seemed to be searching after something. Thomas, who would hold his hand tight as they walked down the street and still manage to seem so distant.

Alex walked into the apartment, and found Thomas lying on the couch, hands folded on his stomach. “Hey, babe.”

“Hello, Alex.”

He sat down on the couch and moved Thomas’ feet into his lap. “What’s up?”

Thomas sighed. “I don’t know. I’m just not feeling it today, I don’t think.”

“What do you mean?”

Thomas sighed again. “I just don’t feel happy. I haven’t felt happy in a while. You were supposed to make me happy.”

Alex leaned back and tapped his fingers on Thomas’ ankle. “Am I not making you happy?”

“No.” Thomas pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I don’t know. What is happy? Maybe I’m just not meant to be happy. I keep trying to make myself happy but I can’t. What’s wrong with me?”

A very familiar frustration rose up in him - the frustration he always fought down when he’d overhear people complaining about lake houses needing to be updated, vacations not going as planned, or not having the right color iPhone. “You have to put in effort to be happy, Thomas. It’s not just something that happens to you. You have to make a choice.”

Thomas dropped his hands and blinked. “What do you know about happiness? You’ve been miserable your entire life.”

“No.” He took in a deep breath. “I haven’t. I’ve been through some shit, okay? But I’ve made the choice to keep looking forward. I have a brother, you know, and he didn’t. Last I heard from him, he was working in a Walmart with no hope of anything more.”

“What’s your point.”

Alex tightened his grip on Thomas’ ankles. “I’m focusing on myself. I’ve made the choice to be happy, okay? I have school and work to focus on, and then I have you. You make me happy, Thomas. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t make me happy.”

Thomas shook his head and closed his eyes. “I just feel like I’m empty. I used to think I just needed stuff. I tried to fill the gap with books and magazine subscriptions and new clothing and music and anything. Creative outlets are supposed to do wonders, I tried everything.”

“Okay. And you’re still not happy.”

“No. I’m not.”

Alex looked over at Thomas. “All the money in the world can’t make you happy. How am I supposed to?”

Thomas didn’t respond.


	17. Sex Pollen/Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/b/o

Alexander could feel the heat coming on. The logical part of him brain told him that it could wait, Jefferson would still be there in a couple of days after he had ridden his heat out with Eliza. All would be well. 

And yet, Alexander was sitting in Jefferson’s office, feeling the heat rise to the surface of his skin, and the ache between his legs became more noticeable by the minute. He shifted his weight in the chair, and ran a hand through his hair.

The back of his neck was covered in sweat. He threw his hair up into a bun.

There wasn’t much to distract himself with, so Alexander focused on the ticking of the clock to ignore the urge to palm his hardening cock. He crossed his legs and prayed that Jefferson would come before the first real wave hit and he could leave and go home.

It was funny how certain obvious facts could escape his mind in situations where details became a matter of extreme importance.

An hours might have passed for how aware Alexander was when the door to Jefferson’s office opened. He could feel the slick at his entrance, and here was a gush of it when he was hit with the distinct smell of Alpha.

Jefferson slammed the door shut and braced himself against it. “Hamilton, what are you doing here?”

“I.” He took in a deep breath and groaned, low and deep. “Ah, had something to tell you.”

Jefferson squeezed his eyes shut. “Well, tell me and leave.”

Alex took in another breath. “I forget.”

“Of course you do.” Jefferson groaned. “Please leave. I’m going to need to air this out.”

He stood up and felt the slick drip down his thigh. “Ah, that might not be the best idea.”

Jefferson inhaled sharply. “What makes you say that?”

“I’m, ah,” he feel to his knees. “I don’t think I can.” He looked up through his lashed at Jefferson. “Alpha.”

Jefferson’s eyes widened. “Your wife is a beta.”

“Mhmmm,” Alex nodded. “The best beta. Best of wives, best of woman. I love her.”

“You’re not mated.”

He tilted his head to the side to expose the skin of his neck. “I am unmarked, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Jefferson groaned, and Alex could see that Jefferson’s knuckles were white. “I thought Washington.”

“No.” He shook his head, “He offered, but I didn’t want to make my path as the Commander’s omega.”

Jefferson shut his eyes again. “You’re an unmated omega in heat, Hamilton. I need you to go.”

“And I,” he crawled forward and placed his hands on Jefferson’s clothed thighs, digging his fingers into the muscles underneath, “need you to fuck me.”

“Hamilton,” Jefferson bit out, “you’re going to regret this.”

He shook his head. “I’m not asking you to mate me, just fuck me. It’ll keep off the next wave long enough for me to get home and get to Eliza.” He pressed his face against Jefferson’s clothed cock. “Please.”

Jefferson’s hips twitched forward. “Unhh.”

Alex tilted his head up and licked his lips. “Please, Alpha.”

Jefferson nodded. “Fine. Over the desk, we’ll make this quick.”

“Oh, you don’t want to knot me, Alpha?” He stood up and bit along the base of Jefferson’s throat. “You don’t want to fill me up with you huge, hard alpha cock. Knot me so good I can’t focus on anything else?”

Jefferson groaned. “Over the desk.”

He pressed a kiss to the hollow of Jefferson’s throat. “Of course, Alpha. You better fuck me good, since this will be the one chance we got. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have an alpha during heat.”

“You’ve never?” 

“Nope.”

Strong hands went to his hips and squeezed. “Over the desk.”

“Yes, Alpha.”


	18. Don't tell me you're actually starting to grow a conscience?

Alex finished the buttons on his shirt and reached for his tie. “We can’t keep doing this.”

Thomas was fiddling with his cuffs. “And why not?”

“I’m married. We’re both married.” Alex turned toward the mirror on the wall to straighten his tie. “We’re not even on the same side.”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually starting to grow a conscience.”

Alex laughed and pulled his hair back into its usual ponytail. “It’s about time I do. I’m an upstanding public servant, after all.”

“You can’t be serious.” Thomas looked to him, brows raised. “You want to get rid of the best outlet for that tension you constantly carry because you’re an ‘upstanding public servant’?”

He shrugged. “Seems like a good enough excuse to me. And who said my wife isn’t a good outlet for me tension.” He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. “I’ve been neglecting her, saving all my energy for you.”

Thomas snorted. “Is that really it?”

Alex looked in the mirror for one last check, and brushed his hands over his clothing to make sure everything was in place. “Yep, I’m afraid so.”

“You’ll come crawling back before the week is out.”

He clucked his tongue. “Maybe, but it probably won’t be to you. I’ve been craving a heavier hand lately, if you know what I mean.”

“You’ve been craving a heavier hand and you’re running back to your wife. That woman couldn’t hurt a fly.”

Alex laughed. “That’s what you think.” He opened the door to leave. “Good day.”

There was a bounce in his step as he made his way down the hall, and his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from Thomas, “you won’t seem so cocky when you’re begging for my dick.” 

He shook his head, deleted the text, and continued on his way.

Someone was bitter.


	19. You're an asshole.

Alex knew as soon as he heard the door open that he had made a terrible mistake. It was one thing to spend his free time teaching himself to cook, cleaning and organizing the kitchen while things boiled and baked. It was another thing entirely to be caught wearing an apron with a swiffer duster in hand as he stood on a chair to try to dust at the top of the cabinets. 

He continued to run the duster back and forth, a mental countdown going through his mind as he waited for Thomas to come into the kitchen. Alex was never going to hear the end of this. He looked at the timer, the chicken still had 8 minutes left. 

His back was to the rest of the apartment, so it was only the sound of the heels of Thomas’ shoes on the linoleum that alerted him to the man’s presence. 

“Honey, I’m home.” The amusement was clear in Thomas’ voice. “If I had known you were the housewife type, I would have left you alone on Saturdays a lot sooner.”

Alex sighed. “You’re an asshole.” He turned around, swiffer duster still in hand. “The kitchen doesn’t clean itself, you know.”

Thomas walked forward and put his hands on Alex’s hips, smiling up at him. “I know. Do I get a kiss from my wifey?”

He swatted Thomas with the duster. “Just for that, no. You can leave.” He stepped off of the chair and pushed it back to its place at the table. “I’m kicking you out. You’re banned from dinner. You can feed yourself cold leftovers in the middle of the night when you think you’re sneaking out of bed without me noticing.”

Hands wrapped around his waist, and Thomas pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t mean that.”

“Pah.” Alex leaned his head on Thomas’ chest and said, “it’s only because it’d be a waste of food if I did. You’re a pretentious asshole who thinks eating cold leftovers isn’t actually something that happens in real life.”

Thomas coughed. “That’s not true, and even if it was, I’m your pretentious asshole and you love me.”

He poked Thomas’ side hard and said, “God knows why.”


	20. I can't handle them anymore! They're practically driving me to cheat! (more jeffmads oops)

“Jemmy, you know I love you with every bit of my heart and soul, right?” 

James raised a brow, looked down to where Thomas’ head was in his lap, and said, “yes. What does this have to do with anything?”

Thomas sighed and crossed his arms, hands squeezing tight. “Hamilton.”

“Hamilton?” James asked.

“Yes.”

“What about Hamilton?” James rested his hand on Thomas’ elbow.

Thomas turned his head to look at the tv and said, “I want to have sex with him.”

“What-” James cleared his throat, and continued, “what the fuck, Thomas?”

Thomas unfolded his arms and reached up to cover his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I don’t know I don’t know. I don’t like it and I don’t mean to but then he’ll walk by or we’ll be arguing and he’ll look at me a certain way and the only thing I can think of is what it’d be like to shut him up.” Thomas groaned. “I don’t know what to do.”

James blinked. “Oh my god, you’re serious.”

“Sadly.” 

“What do you want to do?” James asked.

Thomas laughed. “Well, there are many things I’d like to do to Hamilton, if you catch my drift.”

“Thomas.” James pressed his hand down. “I don’t want to hear what you want to do to Hamilton.”

“I know,” Thomas sighed again, “and it’s not like I want to cheat on you, I really, really don’t, but-”

“Then don’t cheat on me.” James moved his hand to press against Thomas’ cheek and turned Thomas’ head so their eyes met. “It’s rather simple, I think.” 

“You’re angry at me.”

He snorted. “You could say that.”

“If I was actually going to cheat on you we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Thomas said. “Besides, at this point, I think he’s doing it on purpose.”

“That does sound like Hamilton.”

Thomas shut his eyes and groaned, pressing his head back into James’ thigh. He said, “I don’t know what to do. We work together, it’s not like I can avoid him, but I just can’t handle him anymore! He’s practically driving me to cheat!” Thomas reached up to smack against his chest and asked, “do you want to know what he did last week?”

“What did he do last week?”

“I was getting coffee in the break room and he pressed me up against the counter to get something from one of the cabinets like there was nothing wrong with it! It doesn’t even make sense! He’s shorter than me for fuck’s sake!” Thomas smacked his forehead. “And he had to go up on his toes to reach and he just rubbed against me and it’s ruined my life ever since.”

James felt a familiar feeling curl in his chest, and he moved his hand up into Thomas’ curls. “And I’m just hearing about this now?” His tone was short.

“No!” Thomas’ eyes widened. “Yes! Maybe! I don’t know.”

“Thomas.”

“Yes Jemmy?”

He bent over and said, “I need you to stop talking before I get made at you for having an affair with your office nemesis behind my back.”

“That’s not what’s happe-”

James pushed Thomas onto the floor and moved to lie on top of him, “shut up.”


	21. Are you flirting with me?

Jefferson stood in front of him, two cups of coffee in hand. “They messed up my order so I have two, take it.” He handed the cup to Alexander. “I hope you like caramel mocha.”

Alexander accepted the cup, taking a cautious sip, and asked, “how’d they mess up the order?” It was a perfect caramel mocha - his favorite coffee when he was in the mood to treat himself. It was the perfect sweetness, with enough of the coffee to cut through to prevent it from being cloying. He always ordered it with an extra shot of espresso. He narrowed his eyes and looked at the side of the cup - one extra shot. 

He looked back up at Jefferson, who was looking to the side, hand scratching at the side of his neck. Jefferson lifted his own cup and said, “I order mine with soy, that one’s normal dairy.”

“Alright,” Alexander looked at the cup again. “Okay. Thanks, I guess.”

Jefferson nodded. “Not a problem, no issue at all. None whatsoever.” 

“Right,” Alexander said. “So, I’ll see you around?”

“See you around.” Jefferson turned to walk away, getting all the way to the door of his office before turned to look back at him and saying, “wait, uh, what are your lunch plans?”

Alexander looked up from his laptop. “I don’t normally eat lunch.”

“What the fuck?” Jefferson’s eyes were wide, and he shook his head. “That won’t do. I’m taking you to lunch. We’re going to go to lunch. We’ll go to the cafe down the street a little after noon, don’t be in the middle of something.”

Alexander quirked a brow. “See you a little after noon, then, I guess.” Jefferson nodded once and turned back around. His hand was still on the doorframe when Alexander called out, “Hey, Jefferson, are you flirting with me? Is this your idea of flirting?”

Jefferson froze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He smirked to himself and said, “oh, I’m sure you do. In fact,” Alexander set his coffee down, “we’re going to go on a date, where you can tell me all about how you’re not flirting with me.”

Jefferson still didn’t move. “Does that mean we’re not going to lunch? Because you still need to eat, sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

“No, we’re still going to lunch.” Alexander snorted. “Consider it a test-run.”

“Right.” Jefferson was still in the same place.

Alexander chuckled to himself. “Jefferson, come over here.” 

He watched as Jefferson turned sharp on his heel and came to stand in front of his desk. Alexander reached up and grabbed Jefferson’s chin, pulling him down to eye level. “You might have appeared in a dream or two of mine, if I’m being honest. You are too attractive for your own good.” He pressed a kiss to Jefferson’s lips. “I look forward to see you at lunch.”

Jefferson pulled away, dazed, hand rising to touch his lips. “See you for lunch.”

“Good bye, Jefferson.”

“Call me Thomas.”


	22. Are You High?

Alexander was answering an email in one moment and flying through the air in the next, phone still clutched tight in his hand, the papers he had been holding floating around and landing next to him. 

He groaned and looked at his phone. Not cracked, good. Alexander finished typing the sentence and hit send before dropping his head back to the ground. He could stay there for a moment or two, wallow in his shame like any respectable human being.

“Uh, sorry about that,” a voice said, muffled. There was a sniffle. “I mean, I’m sorry you fell, but also you should have been paying better attention.”

Alexander looked over to where the voice came from, and blinked before squinting his eyes and asking, “Jefferson? What the fuck are you doing on the floor?”

Jefferson snorted. “I’m living my life, what does it look like?”

“You’re eyes are red.”

Jefferson shrugged and said, “they do that sometimes.”

“Are you high?” Alexander asked, sitting up and moving closer. There were tear tracks on Jefferson’s face.

“No!” Jefferson shook his head and ran a hand over his hair. “I’m not high, do you really think I’m unprofessional enough to show up high to work?”

“Well, I mean, you’re unprofessional enough to show up wearing a velvet pink suit and also cry in the middle of the hallway so honestly at this point nothing would surprise me,” Alexander said. He moved closer and sat down next to Jefferson, their knees knocking together. “Are you okay?”

Jefferson barked out a sharp laugh. “Does it matter? Why do you care?”

“I mean, you did trip me - I’d like to know why.”

“Nope,” Jefferson said, shaking his head. “I’m not going tell you.”

“Fine.” Alexander stood up. “I don’t care that much.” He bent down to gather the fallen papers, and continued the trek to his office. 

A hand yanked at the sleeve of his jacket. “Wait.”

Alexander turned and raised a brow in question. “Yes?”

“Sit back down.”

“Okay?” He sat back down, and to his surprise, Jefferson laid his head on his shoulder. “This is weird.”

“Yep,” Jefferson responded. “But weird might be just what I need right now.”


	23. You weren’t supposed to hear that.

Thomas pulled at his hair and groaned. “I can’t fucking believe that, he shows up and acts as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

“Nothing is out of the ordinary.” James took a sip of coffee. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I know I say I don’t know what you’re talking about a lot, but this time I really don’t know.”

Thomas looked at him, eyes wide. “Did you see him?”

“Who?”

“Argh.” Thomas looked to the side. “Hamilton. Did you see Hamilton?”

James raised a brow. “Yes.”

Thomas slapped his hands on the table and said, “then you know what I’m talking about!”

“No, I really don’t.”

“You didn’t see?” Thomas asked, looking back at him. He banged his hands on the table again. “How did you not see?”

James took another sip of coffee. “And what did I not see?”

“Hamilton shaved! He cut his hair!”

“Oh, that.” James snorted. “I thought you were talking about something important.”

Thomas’ mouth dropped open. “That is important! ‘oh, that’ What the fuck James?”

“I really don’t get what the big deal is.”

Thomas sputtered. He gathered himself after a moment and said, “because before I was able to be like, don’t be attracted to the greasy fuck! But now! Now he’s cute! And I can’t do this, James! I can’t argue with the man when he’s just going to look at me and I’m literally going to melt.”

There was a knock on the door frame, and a familiar voice called into the room, “who can’t you argue with anymore. I need to get them on my side.”

Thomas closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the table. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

James looked around to find Hamilton with a widening smile as realization set in. “Oh my god, you were talking about me!” Hamilton laughed, giddy. “This is the best thing I’ve heard.”

“Leave,” Thomas said. “For the love of all that is holy, leave.”

Hamilton walked in and sat in the chair next to James. “But you think I’m cute.”

Thomas groaned, and James took the opportunity to stand up, coffee in hand. “And I’m going to go now, good bye.”


	24. I'm losing control of the situation.

“Hamilton,” Thomas called out. “You need to leave.”

Alex looked up in confusion. “What? What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes, you are.” Thomas crossed his arms. “I need you to leave, so you’re going to go.”

Alex stood up, pushing his papers to the side. “Why? You’re not making any sense. Less than twenty minutes ago you were talking about how much we have to do in the upcoming weeks! Why would I just go?”

Thomas turned around, putting his back to Alex and said, “Because I’m losing control of the situation, and you leaving will fix that.”

“What situation?”

He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, holding it in and counting to ten before breathing out. “The you situation.”

“Jefferson, you’re not making any sense.”

Thomas walked to the other side of the room, putting distance between himself and Alex. “I’m making plenty of sense.” Alex was there as a favor - needing a place to stay while everything was figured out. Alex wasn’t meant to get involved in his affairs, wasn’t supposed to worm his way into Thomas’ heart.

Alex’s hand went to his shoulder and turned him around, backing Thomas up against the book case. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He swallowed. This was why he needed Alex to leave. “Hamilton,” Thomas whispered. “I’m pretty sure you do.” He let his eyes drop down to Alex’s lips.

Alex’s eyes went wide and he smirked. “Tell me.”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “That’s not happening.”

“Tell me.” Alex stepped closer.

Thomas’ fingers twitched at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and put his hands on Alex’s hips, but that would be bad, would make him want to touch other places. He balled his hands into fists. “No.”

Alex reached out to wrap his hands around Thomas’ wrists, pulling Thomas forward. “Yes.”

He shook his head.

“I suppose I’ll just have to guess then,” Alex said. “Do forgive me if I’m wrong.” Soft lips pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth. Alex pulled away, eyes questioning. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” Thomas said, shaking his head. “You’re not, and that is why you need to leave. I don’t need this right now.”

Alex pressed against him. “But you want it.”

“I want a lot of things I shouldn’t.”

Alex kissed him again, deeper, and Thomas moaned into it. Alex pulled back, eyes glinting. “Well, this thing wants you too.”


	25. Think they bought it?

It was Washington’s fault. They’d been called in last-minute, and they didn’t have the time to get their own kits. Alex looked at the knives on the wall. He needed something effective - sharp but not bulky. 

“Hello!” A cherry voice called out. “Welcome to Sur La Table! Is there anything I can assist you with today?” 

Alex turned to look at the smiling blond lady who was now standing at their side. Jefferson stepped to his side and pressed a kiss to his temple. Alex froze. Jefferson laughed and said, “No, we’re good, but thank you. We’re just looking for a new knife set. Alex here likes to cook, and I thought it was time he got some proper tools.”

“Of course!” The woman’s smile remained. “Let me know if you need anything!”

The smiling saleswoman turned the corner and Alex shoved away from Jefferson. “Jesus christ we’re never doing that again.”

“Are you too good to be playing my doting husband?” Jefferson asked, smirking.

Alex shuttered. “That was one of the most painful experiences of my life.”

“Surely you jest.”

He shook his head. ‘Nope - but, more importantly, do you think they bought it?”

Jefferson shrugged and said, “eh, I think it worked well enough. She’s gone, and that’s what matters.”

“Fine.” Alex turned back to look at the knives. “So, which set?”

The saleswoman neared them with another couple in tow. Jefferson wrapped his arm around Alex’s waist and said, “Well darling’, we have to have a wide selection with how much time you spend in the kitchen.”

Alex picked up a knife, appearing to be examining it’s edge, and leaned up to whisper in Jefferson’s ear. “Call me darling one more time and it won’t be Adams meeting his maker.”


	26. Stay here tonight

Alex looked up from his computer screen when he heard Jefferson clear his throat. “What?” he asked.

Jefferson lifted his hand to look down at his watch. “It’s 3 in the morning.”

“So?”

“So,” Jefferson said, moving to lean against the table. “You’ve been here for seven hours, and I stopped helping you four hours ago and you’re still working.”

He looked back to the report he was working on, cursor blinking in the middle of an unfinished paragraph. Alex looked back up to Jefferson and raised a brow and said, “it’s not done yet.”

“Of course it’s not done yet; we’re still waiting on information.” Jefferson crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re not going to finish it tonight, and we have to be back at the office in five and half hours.”

Alex snorted and leaned back into the chair, looking at Jefferson and taking in the plaid pajama pants and thin tank top. Jefferson must have changed. He blinked. Jefferson had nice arms. He shook his head the clear the thought away and said, “I still don’t see what you’re getting at. There’s still plenty to do.”

“Go to sleep,” Jefferson replied. “Even you need at least some sleep. I usually leave here around seven.”

“Alright.” Alex shrugged. “Are you kicking me out?”

Jefferson shook his head. “No, just stay here tonight. It’ll be easier.”

He tapped his fingers at the table and looked at Jefferson, debating. If he wanted to get a decent amount of sleep tonight, it’d be best. But, if he went home, he could finish the section he was working on. Alex yawned.

Jefferson laughed and said, “yeah, you’re staying here. You’re exhausted.” He stretched his arms above his head, and Alex’s eyes dropped to the skin revealed by the tank top riding up. 

The look must have been noticed because Jefferson let his arms back down and pulled down his shirt. He turned around and started to walk away. “Hamilton,” Jefferson said, not looking at Alex. “You can sleep on the couch. I’ll get you a blanket.”

Alex shut his laptop and went to sit on the couch while Jefferson fetched the blanket. After a minute or two which Alex spent taking in his surroundings - modern furniture, bursting bookshelves, no-doubt original art hanging on every wall. 

A bundled up blanket his his chest, and Alex looked up to find Jefferson staring at him. “There you go. I wake up at five-thirty to do yoga, see you then.”

“Right, thanks.”

Jefferson hesitate a moment before walking away, and Alex took on the opportunity to act on the impulse that had been at the back of his brain all night. He reached his hand out and wrapped it around Jefferson’s wrists and pulled Jefferson close. 

“Thanks,” he said, taking in Jefferson’s confused look With care, he lifted Jefferson’s hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it, never breaking eye-contact. 

Jefferson was frozen, even as Alex let go of his hand with a smirk. The lighting meant he couldn’t be certain, but Alex let himself think he saw Jefferson’s cheeks darkening. “Good night, Thomas,” he said.

An odd burst of satisfaction wrung through his chest when after a moment passed, Jefferson turned around and scurried down the hallway.


	27. You honestly thought I'd let you get away with that?

Alex knew that Thomas wouldn’t be happy about it - was more than aware of how irritated Dr. Jefferson would be with him. It’d be worth it though, to see the man flustered in front of everyone.

Alex took his usual seat in the front row, computer open in front of him. Thomas always started his lectures the same way - he’d walk to the front of the room, clasp his hands behind his back, and clear his throat in an attempt to get the students’ attention.

There was a faint click, and Alex sat back in his seat as Thomas’ voice washed over him - Sartre was a favorite of Jefferson’s.

Alex reached in his bag and pulled out a sucker. Thomas’ eyes met his when he took off the wrapper - narrowing when he popped it into his mouth. It was a simple thin, really, but the professor had made no secret over how much he loved Alex’s mouth - or rather, what he could do wit hit.

Thomas started to pace, hands gesturing to accent his points the further he go into the lecture - answering questions with the same enthusiasm. He always started quiet and shy, but as discussed blossomed, so did the professor.

Every so often, Thomas’ eyes would drift to him then pull away. Whenever Thomas walked in front of him, Alex would make a show of pressing the red candy to his lips, bring it into his mouth with lowered lids.

Lafayette elbowed him hard in the side and whispered in his ear, “if you give Jefferson a boner while I can see I’m going to murder you in your sleep.”

“I can’t control him - it wouldn’t be my fault,” Alex said.

Lafayette snorted. “It’d very much be your fault and you know why.”

The minutes ticked by, and the next time Thomas looked at him, Alex slid down in his seat, spreading his legs wide beneath the desk.

Lafayette leaned over and said, “cut the poor man some slack and go visit him during office hours.”

The class ended, and the students started to file out. Alex put his laptop away and hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and approached Dr. Jefferson with a smirk.

Thomas turned around when he approached, going to erase his scribblings on the white board. Alex leaned against the wall and looked at Thomas and said, “Professor, I was wondering if I could make an appointment for this afternoon.”

There were still a couple of people lingering in the back, so Thomas only looked at him with a raised brow and said, “of course, Mr. Hamilton. In fact, I’m available right now.” There was a glint in Thomas’ eye that had Alex tensing in anticipation.

“Of course, sir,” Alex said.

“I’m just finished up here.” Thomas set the eraser down. “We’ll talk on the way to my office.”

Alex pulled another sucker from his bag and popped it in his mouth, the hard candy clacking against his teeth.

Thomas shook his head and placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder - guiding him around the corner to all outward appearances - fingers curling in a way that assured Alex he’d be getting more than a slight reprimand.

The philosophy department was small, and it wasn’t long before Thomas was closing to door to his office shut behind them.

“Alex,” Thomas said, voice low.

“Yes sir?”

A hand went to the back of his neck and squeezed. Alex swallowed. Thomas chuckled and asked, “did you honestly think I’d let you get away with that?”

Alex bit down on the sucker , taking the time it took to chew and swallow to candy to think how he wanted this to go. He took the stick out of his mouth and threw it into the trashcan. He smiled and said, “I was hoping you wouldn’t, actually.”

“Is that so?” Thomas asked, putting more force on his neck until Alex went to his knees. “You know why you shouldn’t do that sort of thing.”

The thrill made it better - knowing everything he had worked so hard for for so long would be gone. “I do,” Alex said. “But it’s been so long, I’m starting to get antsy, sir.”

“Couldn’t wait? Had to act out to get my attention?” Thomas’ voice had the edge that Alex loved.

Alex leaned back into Thomas’ hand. “It was either that or see if my suspicions about Dr. Washington were right.”

Thomas walked around to his front, and Alex settled his hands against Thomas’ clothed thighs. Thomas looked down at him and asked, “suspicions?”

“Oh yes.” Alex licked his lips. “I believe that if I dropped to my knees and said ‘daddy please’ I’d have a hand in my hair and a hard cock down my throat in less than a minute.”

A thumb traced his lips, and Alex’s tongue darted out to lick it. 

Thomas’ eyes darkened. “Is that what you want?”

Alex nodded and said, “very much, sir.”

“Well, it’s about time I put your mouth to good use,” Thomas said, hands going to his zipper.


	28. What? Why are you staring at me like that?

Alexander pushed a loose piece of hair behind his eat and itched at the spot behind his jaw, Exhaustion was pulling at him and the computer screen was burning his eyes. He shifted in his seat, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He knew what he wanted to say - could feel it - and yet the words weren’t coming.

He leaned back, pressing his head against his chair, and groaned. He had to be back at the office in five hours and he wasn’t even done with the first draft.

Someone snorted. Alexander looked up to find Thomas standing in the doorway, face relaxed, a soft smile on his lips.

“What?” Alexander asked. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Thomas chuckled and folded his arms over his chest. “Nothing,” he said. “I love you, that’s all.”

A warm feeling spread through Alexander’s chest and he smiled. “I love you too,” he said. He dropped his hands down on the armrests. “What sparked this? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” he asked.

“Yes,” Thomas said, “I should. But,” Thomas pushed of the door frame and took a step toward the desk, “my husband has abandoned me and my bed is very cold.”

Alexander pushed his chair back from the desk and said, “come here.”

Thomas shook his head but came forward and sat in Alexander’s lap, arms going to Alexander’s shoulders. Alexander dropped his hands to Thomas’ thighs and tilted his head up for a kiss.

“I’m almost done,” he said. “I’ll be there soon.”

Thomas shook his head again and said, “you said that four hours ago.”

Alexander tapped his fingers on Thomas’ legs. “That may be true-”

“It is,” Thomas interrupted.

“That may be true,” Alexander continued. “But this time I’m serious.”

Thomas raised a brow. “Really?” he asked. “You’re serious?”

Alexander nodded.

“I don’t believe you,” Thomas said, shaking his head.

Alexander groaned. “You’re not going to let this go, are you.”

“Nope,” Thomas said, reaching behind him to shut Alexander’s laptop.

He squeezed Thomas’ thighs and leaned forward to press a kiss to Thomas’ lips. “I hate you,” he said.

Thomas smiled. “I know,” he said. “Now let’s get you to bed so I can finally sleep.”


	29. It’s okay. I’m used to it.

Alex had known it was a bad idea the first time he found himself on his knees in front of Thomas Jefferson, but that hadn’t stopped him. 

“You know,” Jefferson had said, looking down at him. “It doesn’t matter how good you are, you’re never going to be anything more than a fuck, and that’s if you’re lucky.”

Alex had nodded and unzipped Thomas’ jeans, mouth already open wide.

That had been months ago, and yet here he still was, locked away in some study room while Thomas bit his lip to keep himself quiet above him.

After, when the tissue he used to wipe his mouth was thrown in the trash and they were both shrugging their bags onto their shoulders, Thomas said, “we’re going to stop doing this.”

Alex raised a brow, trying to seem confident, pushing down the sudden rush of panic. “Oh? Do you find yourself looking forward to it too much? Don’t like the idea of wanting something from me?”

“No,” Thomas said, sneering. “I’ve got a girl now, someone who I can go out with on the weekends. Who I don’t need to be ashamed up putting my dick in.”

Ah, so Thomas had thought of them going out. It was easier to focus on that than the sharp edge of pain. “She won’t be as good as I am,” Alex said. “No on is as good as I am.”

Thomas snorted. “It’s the only thing you’re good at, don’t let it go to your head. Not everyone had to whore their way to college, you know.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t whore my way-”

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear it.” Thomas interrupted. He was silent for a moment, before he smirked and said, “unless you’re hurt. Have I hurt your feelings? Are you upset you’re not going to be getting my dick anymore?”

“It’s okay.” Alex shrugged. “I’m used to it. You weren’t even my favorite.”

Thomas glared and stepped forward. Ha, so he didn’t like that idea. Thomas said, “so you brag about being the best when they all leave you? How does that work?”

Alex pasted on a fake smile. “They always come back.”

Thomas’ eyes narrowed even more.

“I’ll see you around,” Alex said, turning to the door. “Probably sooner than you think.”

It was a hope he could cling on to, and Alex supposed that was better than nothing.


	30. You know damn well why things are the way they are.

Alexander smoothed his hair back into its usual ponytail, eyes aimed toward the window looking over the street far below. “It’d be nice,” he said, not looking at Thomas. “If we had a decent amount of time. Lunch break blowjobs are nice and all, but it all feels a bit rushed, doesn’t it?”

Thomas snorted. “What? You want me to take my time? Make love to you?”

“No.” Alexander crossed his arms over his chest. Would it be nice to have Thomas’ lean form lying next to him, basking in the afterglow while they both pretended everything was normal? Yes, but that wasn’t what he was here for. “But you have to admit enough time to actually fuck me would be appreciated.”

“If you say so.” Thomas shrugged. “Why? Do you want me to? Do you want to be bent over this desk biting down on your tie to keep quiet like some porno? Is that gets you off? Is my hand not good enough for you?”

Alexander turned around and leaned against the wall. “The whole sneaking around thing isn’t that great is all I’m saying. It’s pure luck we’ve managed this long. I’m just saying it wouldn’t be out of place to at least get a motel room or something.”

“If you think I’m actually going to lower myself to a fucking motel just to fuck you-”

“Maybe not a motel, that was just an example.” 

“You know damn well why things are the way they are, Hamilton,” Thomas said. “It’s not like we can have people find out about this. We’re supposed to hate each other-”

“We do hate each other,” Alexander slid in.

“Stop interrupting me!” Thomas said, eyes narrowed. Alexander snorted. Thomas continued, “it’d be suspicious if we both left early, and despite what you might have Washington believing, we do need to sleep to function. There’s not enough time in the day.”

“One day someone’s going to walk in one us - an unlocked door, a forgotten appointment - and it’s all going to be for nothing.”

Thomas sneered. “Well, we just can’t let that happen, can we now?”

“Chances would decrease if we weren’t here.”

Thomas shook his head. “Good bye, Hamilton. Tell your wife I say hello.”


	31. Virgo: humiliation, submission, public sex

Alex knew it wasn’t a good idea, but the temptation was too strong. They were in a booth, him and Thomas on one side, James and Dolley on the other. Thomas was laughing at something James had said, head bent over the glass of wine in his hand. 

Alex’s hand was resting on Thomas’ knee, his other on top of the table holding his fork. It was all to easy to slide his hand up Thomas’ thigh, tracing his fingers along the seam of Thomas’ jeans. His touch wasn’t light, wasn’t casual. He was pressing down, his purpose obvious as his hand slid higher. 

Thomas choked when Alex’s hand cupped his cock through his jeans.

“Are you okay?” James asked. “Do you need water or anything?”

Thomas shook his head and shot Alex a glare. “No,” he said. “I’m fine. Must have swallowed the wine too fast.”

“As long as you’re sure,” James said.

Thomas nodded, and Dolley continued on with her story - hands gesturing to accentuate each word. 

Alex took a sip of his own wine as he managed to get Thomas’ button undone. Dolley’s voice covered the sound of the zipper. Alex swore he heard a small whimper escape Thomas when he wrapped his hand around Thomas’ hard cock. He smirked as he swiped his thumb over the slit, spreading the fluid gathered there. He might have pulled back had it not been obvious just how much Thomas was enjoying it.

Their waiter approached the table. “Is everything going well so far?” he asked.

Dolley nodded, flashing him her signature bright smile. “Everything’s great,” she said. She turned to Thomas. “Are you good?”

Thomas’ eyes were squeezed shut, Alex’s hand still pumping his cock under the table, but he managed to open them and nod.

Dolley raised a questioning brow, but turned back to the waiter and said, “everything’s good for now, but be sure to bring the dessert menu by later, won’t you?”

“Of course, ma’am,” the waiter said before turning away and continuing his rounds.

Alex twisted his hand, brushing his thumb over the head of Thomas’ cock just the way he knew Thomas loved. Thomas pushed his plate over and dropped his head into his hands on the table with a groan. 

James’ eyes widened and he looked over at Alex and asked, “what are you doing?!”

Alex shrugged. “Nothing he’s not enjoying.”

Dolley snorted. “Oh no, I’d say that Thomas is enjoying this very much.” She looked at Alex. “I was wondering why you were eating with one hand.”

“What can I say?” Alex asked, speeding up the movement. “I’m a multi-tasker.”

“This is hardly appropriate for dinner,” James choked out, realization dawning over him. “We’re in a restaurant! Anyone could see!”

Thomas made a low sound, and Alex sped up his hand. Thomas was close, very close. 

A moment passed, and Thomas made another sound, louder this time, more like a gasp, and Alex stroked him through his completion, a smirk on his face. His own cock twitched against his thigh.

He looked over at Dolley. “Do you have a spare napkin?”

“You’re incorrigible.” 

Thomas lifted his head off the table when the waiter came back with the dessert menu. As soon as the waiter disappeared again, he glared and Alex and spat out, “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Don’t say that like you didn’t like it,” Alex said.

Thomas’ glare intensified. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Alex said. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Thomas’ cheek. He wrapped an arm around Thomas’ waist and whispered, “maybe next time I’ll get on my knees. I know how much you like my mouth.”

Thomas whimpered. 

“Unless you’re serious about not wanting it,” Alex said. “But I know how much you like this, all those fantasies of yours…” he continued. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.


	32. No one else is allowed to see you like this -theinevitablesense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PARKER WROTE THIS ONE

Thomas closed the door to to the closet, flicking the lock with one hand. “There, all cleaned up and taken care of.” He turned back to where Alexander was sat on the bed, his lovely Alexander. With his wrists tied up in expensive silk, the delicate late he wore, it was all gorgeous. A sight to behold.

The way Alexander cried made it even all the better. The delicate tears tracing down from his eyes, staining the fabric gag in his mouth dark. Thomas’ heart melted at the sight of it.

“Oh, love, don’t cry. You know it hurts me to see you cry,” he cooed. He crossed the room and raised one hand to cradle Alexander’s face. Instantly, Alexander thrashed, his head jerking side to side.

Thomas frowned, and caught Alexander’s head in his hands. “Come now darling, it’s alright, I’ve got you. The bad man’s gone away now.”

Alexander’s voice was muffled behind the gag. Thomas could see where he strained against his bonds. The rope holding his tied wrists to the wall was perfectly secure, no matter how Alexander pulled against it.

“How many times do I have to tell you, there’s no point in struggling,” Thomas says. “I don’t like it when you fight back. I don’t get why you insist on it when I could be treating you as you should be treated.” Thomas wiped the tears from Alexander’s face with his thumbs. “Soft, gentle. I would love to worship you Alexander, if you would only let me -”

Thomas cut off with a grunt of pain. Bright, searing pain shot through his body from his stomach, and when he backed up and looked down he found that one of Alexander’s legs had come free from their shackles.

“Alexander,” he growled. “What would you do that for?” Alexander glared at him as he desperately tried to kick off the other shackle. Thomas snarled, and grabbed for Alexander’s single free limb.

It wasn’t hard to control Alexander. The man was weak since he hadn’t behaved enough for much food. But when Thomas reached for the other shackle he found that Alexander hadn’t come free at all. Instead, the chain had been broken, leaving the cold circle of metal secured around Alexander’s ankle.

“Laurens,” Thomas spat, finally realising what the chain cutters John had held had been for. With no other recourse, Thomas let Alexander’s leg go only long enough to grab a spare length of rope. Alexander’s struggle was pitiful as Thomas lashed his ankle down to the bed.

“See what happens when you do these things Alexander?” Thomas asked. “I’m sure how you’re tied down now is far less comfortable than the shackles were.” Alexander just glared at him, the tears still streaming. Thomas sighed.

“Alexander, I told you not to cry,” he said. “Won’t you listen to anything I say? This could be so much easier if you just listened.”

Alexander responded by kicking the foot still in it’s shackle at Thomas. Thomas frowned, crawled back up the bed and grabbed Alexander by the hair. “What are you still crying about? John? Are you really that torn up about such irrelevant garbage?! Don’t you see, he had to die. No one else is allowed to see you like this. This is all just for me. And he tried to break that.”

Alexander’s eyes, red rimmed and wet, shut tight but still he fought. Alexander wriggled, twisting his body in ways that surely pulled on old cuts and twisted bruises. Thomas increased his grip on Alexander’s hair, his other hand going to pull the still-bloodied knife from his pocket.

“You stop this, you stop this fighting and this crying or I will give you something to cry about.”


	33. Please Don't Leave Me Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Alcohol

It was in a moment of weakness that he had reached for the bottle. Thomas had meant to bring it home months ago, but it always managed to slip his mind. Or maybe it was the knowledge that he’d want it when the day came. It always taunted at him, a visible reminder of how easy it’d be to lose everything. 

Thomas was better now. He kept it separate. He was a known introvert. No one needed to know how he spent the time alone. 

But the bottle of bourbon had been a gift, a welcome for joining the firm. It was best it stay on display should Washington ever come to his office. It served as a reminder of his position there to those after it. 

He knew that Alexander was still close with Washington. If Thomas was good at anything, it was torturing himself in small, subtle ways. Alexander had met Washington for lunch more than a few times while they had been together. The possibility of seeing Alexander again, even from a distance, had factored into his decision to accept Washington’s offer. 

James had been trying to catch his attention when it happened. 

Alexander Hamilton had walked through the doors as if he owned the place, head held high and stride confident. Alexander hadn’t spared Thomas a single glance, focus straight ahead of him as he walked toward Washington’s office.

Thomas had heard the blood rushing in his ears, had felt the blood drain from his face. 

“Thomas?” James had asked, voice portraying rare concern. “Are you okay?” 

He had nodded, not entirely aware of his surroundings, lost in memories that felt so distant and so close. 

His office was safe haven with walls hiding him from the rest of the world and a door that closed. Thomas hadn’t turned the lock in his rush to reach for the unopened bottle of bourbon - expensive, meant to be sipped over a celebratory conversation. 

Thomas broke the seal and threw the cork to the side. Something that might have been called shame filled him when he tilted the bottle back, but the burn at the back of his throat and through his chest took care of it before he could pay it too much mind. 

He set the bottle down on the desk, his hand wrapped around the neck, and took in a deep breath. He could feel a drop of the whiskey leaking from the corner of his mouth. He didn’t wipe it away and stumbled into his chair. 

It was all too familiar a pattern. The taste of alcohol was strong on his tongue, images of Alexander - laughing, shouting, yelling, dancing - filling his mind. Thomas reached for the bottle again. The amber liquid shined under the fluorescent lights. He had time before what he had already had kicked in - just enough to drink more. Enough to guarantee he wouldn’t remember what he regretted the next morning. 

The bottle was near half-empty when he dropped his head into his hands. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard the hint of a sound, something that sounded like his name, said in a voice that had Thomas’ chest aching,

It was Alexander. It wasn’t Alexander of a year ago, it was Alexander now. His hair was longer, shining in the light. It might have been grease, Thomas couldn’t focus enough to tell.

“Wha’re you doin’ here?” 

Alexander frowned at him and Thomas bit his lip.

“Leaving,” Alexander said, eyes narrowed.

“No!” Thomas cried out, hand outstretched in front of him. “Please, don’t-’

“Don’t what, Thomas?” Alexander asked. “Don’t leave you to die alone in your office?”

Thomas made a sound that might have been a sob. “D-don’t leave me again.”

A moment of silence passed.

Alexander walked toward the door, “Goodbye, Thomas. I’ll let Madison know on the way out.”

“Alex-”

The slam of the door cut Thomas off.


	34. Don’t smile. You have the smile of a serial killer.

“Hamilton,” Jefferson called out as he pushed the door open in all of his obnoxious glory, startling Alexander enough that his hand jerked and pushed his coffee mug to the floor. “I need you.”

Alexander narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck for?” 

Jefferson shrugged. “I just need you to stand there and look pretty,” he said, like that gave any actual explanation.

“Why?” Alexander asked, not moving from his chair. “And why don’t you make Madison do it?”

“Jemmy’s busy,” Jefferson said. “You’re closer.”

“Why do you need to me ‘stand there and look pretty’?” 

Jefferson straightened his jacket and muttered, “my ex is here.”

Alexander’s mouth fell open. “Your ex?! You have an ex?!” he asked. “Why are they here?”

“I’m not sure, probably to pick up files or something.”

“Right.” Alexander pushed his chair away from his desk. “You owe me at least ten favors for this.” He looked down at the mug on the floor and coffee on the floor and sighed. “Who’s your ex anyway?”

Jefferson pushed himself off the door and held the door open for Alexander. “Adams,” Jefferson said, almost too low for him to hear. “He hates you.”

Alexander snorted. “Lovely.”

Adams was a name he was familiar with, but had never actually met. Regret was flowing through him, but at this point it was too late. He needed a break from the report he’d been working on, and this was as good as any other. 

Alexander hurried to keep up with Jefferson’s long strides. “So, uh,” he said. “What do you need me to do?” 

“Look like you don’t despise me for about five minutes,” Jefferson said, looking down at him with a raised brow. “Maybe smile.”

They stepped into an elevator, and Alexander shot Jefferson a forced, wide smile. “Like this?” he asked.

Jefferson’s lip curled up. “Don’t smile. You have the smile of a serial killer.”

Alexander reached up to pat Jefferson’s arm. “Thanks, doll.”

“Don’t call me that.”

The elevator doors opened, and Alexander took the opportunity to press himself close to Jefferson’s side. Jefferson made a quiet sound, but allowed it.

They made their way to the reception desk Adams was standing in front of, his back to them, and Alexander bristled. God, to think that the fat little man in front of him had actually managed to get his way into Jefferson’s bed.

He looked up at Jefferson and smiled - more genuine this time, one he knew actually looked good - and said, “ready to go for lunch? The little cafe around the corner?” 

Jefferson’s eyes widened for a moment, but then he said, “of course, darlin’. Whatever you want.”

Adams turned around at the sound of Jefferson’s voice. brows furrowed together in a way that had Alexander feeling like they were always like that. 

“Thomas!” Adams said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“John,” Thomas said, voice carefully even. “I work here, as you know.”

Adams chuckled. “I suppose,” he said. He looked to Alexander and offered a hand. “And who are you, then?”

Alexander did his best to squeeze Adams’ hand. “Alexander Hamilton,” he said.

Adams’ mouth dropped open the slightest bit. “Oh,” he said. 

Jefferson stepped between them and started to push Alexander toward the door. “We really must be going, sorry about that, John.”

“Oh no, I understand,” Adams said, hands held to his sides. “Go have fun on your date. I’m seeing someone new now. Her name is Abigail, I’m sure she’d love for the four of us to catch dinner some time.”

Jefferson kept pushing Alexander toward the door. “We’ll have to stay in touch,” Jefferson rushed out. “Come on, darlin’, I know you don’t like taking too long a lunch.”

Alexander practically had to run to keep up with Jefferson. “That wasn’t nearly as bad as you making go with you made it sound.”

“Maybe,” Jefferson said. He slowed down to a normal pace and shot Alexander a smile that had his stomach spinning. “I just wanted a reason to take you to lunch.”

“Oh my god.”


	35. Do-Do I know you?

Thomas had long learned that the best way to avoid too many questions was to keep his head down and stay quiet. Blanks weren’t trusted. He’d heard time and time again that the only people who couldn’t remember were those who had made some terrible mistake that couldn’t bear to be remembered and those who were too immature to handle it.

He didn’t feel like he was either of those. There was a vague sense of how he knew he was more than this, but that was it. There was no name or image that ever rang a bell. No color eyes that made him long for a better time. It was lonely, but it was all Thomas knew.

Thomas pushed the door open and started on his familiar trek to class. He stumbled back when he felt something collide with his chest, thin arms wrapping around his waist and a a face pressed against his neck. 

“Thomas, Thomas, Thomas,” the unfamiliar voice whispered. “It’s you. I’ve been looking for you for so long. I had a feeling I’d find you hear but I didn’t want to bank on it. God, I’ve been looking for someone for so long - anyone.” The man stepped away, and Thomas found himself focusing in on expressive, brown eyes. “Do you know how terrible it is trying to find someone without making a scene - Wait! of course you do! - but finally! I mean, of course it’s you, but god, finally.”

Thomas blinked. “Do-Do I know you?”

The man frowned. “Maybe not this time around,” he admitted. “But I certainly hope I was memorable enough that you have at least some recollection.”

“I….” Thomas shook his head. “I don’t know you.”

“Yes you do!” the man said. “It’s Hamilton! You didn’t like me very much, but you knew me!”

Thomas narrowed his eyes at the newly named Hamilton, his mind scrambling for a way to tell Hamilton he had no idea who Hamilton was without revealing he was blank.

“Who do you think I am?” he asked after a moment. A mistaken identity was easier to explain than an absence of one. “I think you have the wrong person.”

Hamilton shook his head. “I definitely don’t - I’d know that walk anywhere. And you’re Jefferson, of course! Though, I suppose you could go by a different name. I go by Rodriguez now, so…”

“Rodriguez,” Thomas repeated. “And I’m definitely not anyone named Jefferson.”

Rodriguez’s eyes widened. “Do you still go by Thomas?”

Thomas nodded. 

“Great!” Rodriguez smiled. “I’m still Alex!”

Thomas looked around for a moment, trying to see if anyone’s attention was focused on them - Alex wasn’t being discreet, by any means. He took in a deep breath and turned back to Alex, ushering him toward a bench a little out of the way.

“I need you to listen carefully, Alex,” Thomas said, keeping his voice low to keep anyone from hearing. “And you can’t tell anyone. Is that clear?”

Alex nodded, face suddenly taking on a more serious quality.

“Okay.” Thomas bit at his lip for a moment. “Well…I’m not, and I never was, anyone named Thomas Jefferson.”

“Of course not!” Alex said, pushing at his shoulder. “You’re not a Thomas Jefferson, you’re the Thomas Jefferson.”

Thomas shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’m not. I’m not anyone. The only person I am is me, myself now, and that is Thomas Meyers. I live in Richmond, Virginia and coming to college here in New York was my first time leaving the state. This is all I am, and all I will ever be. I don’t know you.”

It was the first time he had admitted it to someone. Even his parents thought he’d been some unimportant farmer before the civil war. It was easier. No one cared about the memories if they weren’t important, they just needed to think they were there.

Alex’s brows furrowed. “You’re sure?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Thomas said, nodding.

Alex appeared sullen for a moment before he brightened and gave Thomas a bright grin. “Well, in that case,” he said. “Would you wanna go get coffee some time?”

“I-”

“Please!” Alex interrupted, grabbing for Thomas’ hand. “I basically assaulted you thinking you were someone else - someone who I’m not entirely convinced you’re not, if only because that look you’re giving me right now is way too familiar, if you get what I mean - and I owe you a coffee, at least.”

“Right.” Thomas said. He bit at his lip. “Sure, I guess-”

“Great!” Alex said. “I’ll give you my number and we can make it a plan!’“

\---

Thomas flipped his phone over in his hands as he walked toward the coffee shop Alex was waiting at - apparently spent a majority of what little free time he had there.

To: Alex Rodriguez (Hamilton?)  
From: Thomas Meyers  
Should be there in a few minutes

From: Alex Rodriguez (Hamilton?)  
To: Thomas Meyers  
Great! See you soon! I’m sitting in the chairs in the corner up by the window. Turn right when you walk in and you should see me!

It was…intriguing, to say the least. People weren’t often recognized at first sight. There were too many tragic romances featuring old lovers who met in the next life after they had already settled, gotten married and had kids. There were clauses and loopholes built into the law for dealing with that sort of thing, but Thomas had never expected to confront it himself. 

Alex said he had known him - as Thomas Jefferson, of all people - and even after Thomas had said it was impossible, Alex still wanted to know him. No judgmental look had crossed his face. It was…refreshing.

Thomas took in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders as he pushed open the door to the shop. He looked to his right and found Alex waving him over, the same bright grin on his face. 

“Hey!” Alex called out. “Great to see ya!”

Thomas nodded and set his bag on the floor as he took a seat. “Hello,” he said.

Alex pushed a coffee across the small table. “I just got you a medium black coffee, there’s cream and sugar over by the counter if you want it.”

“Thanks,” Thomas said, taking a sip to test the temperature. He usually preferred it sweet and creamy, but he could deal with this for now. “So, uh, how are you?”

“I’m good,” Alex said. “I’ve spent the last couple hours working on a couple articles for the paper, but a friend of mine tells me I need to take more breaks, so I guess that’s what I’m doing.”

Thomas chuckled. “Probably for the best.”

They were silent for a moment, each sipping at their coffees. Thomas kept spinning his phone in his one hand, needing something to focus in on, however small. Alex was fidgeting, his eyes darting all over the place, teeth biting at his lower lip, leaving it red and swollen. It was something they had in common, a lack of comfort, a need to move.

“So,” Alex started, seemingly unable to take the lack of conversation for much longer. “Uh…you seriously have no idea who you were?”

Thomas tensed and narrowed his eyes slightly. “I wasn’t anyone,” he said, tone low, but still biting. “And I don’t like to talk about it.”

Alex tilted his head to the side. “I think you only don’t like to talk about it because other people don’t want to talk about it.”

Thomas snorted. “You’ve known me for less than an hour. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t psychoanalyze me.”

“Sorry,” Alex said, not sounding sorry at all. “But I don’t believe you weren’t anyone. I mean, maybe you don’t remember yet, but I do think there’s a yet.”

“Most people remember by the time they’re eleven,” Thomas said. “I’m 20. It’s certainly rather late now, don’t you think.”

“There’s been later,” Alex pointed out. “And I mean, I actually didn’t remember until freshman year when I had to write a paper on my financial plan. And it wasn’t some big moment for me,” he said. Alex looked to the side and took a sip of coffee. “The further back the memories are, the less easy it is to remember them, I think. Most people remember because they’re re-experiencing something. I was explaining the plan and at one point I found myself understanding it on a level the sources I was using weren’t getting at. It made sense.”

“Why are you so fixated on this?” Thomas asked. “Why does it matter?

Alex’s eyes were expressive, in a way that Thomas hadn’t seen before. “It matters,” Alex said. “Because you’d understand. I’ve never been good at being alone, Thomas. Sure, I have friends here, but they don’t get it.” Alex looked down at the table, one of his hands clutching tight into a fist. “They just…their memories are too modern. They have pictures, videos. I know there are people closer here, I went to one of the meetings once-”

“Really?” Thomas interrupted, word coming out before he thought to stop it.

Alex nodded. “Yep,” he said, popping the p. “Never went back, if you could believe it. They were the right people. They had the same difficulty finding their memories - for most of them it was visiting colonial Williamsburg in middle school, actually. But they…they were all normal. I didn’t recognize any of them, but they would have recognized me…and I don’t want that.”

“So you attacked the first person who has the same walk as an old friend of yours,” Thomas said.

Alex snorted. “We weren’t friends.”

“Then what were we?” Thomas asked. He took another sip of coffee. It was bitter, but it was good in the way that it kept him from being too comfortable. Because he wanted to be comfortable around Alex, and that was terrifying.

Alex seemed to debate something for a moment. “Some would call us rivals,” he said. “But, we were more than that, sometimes.”

“What do you mean?”

“How offended would you be if I kissed you?” Alex asked suddenly, not meeting his gaze.

Thomas’ mouth dropped open. “What?!” 

Alex leaned against the table and pressed his lips - soft - to the corner of Thomas’ mouth, and sat back - movement almost too quick for Thomas to be aware of what had happened.

He licked his lips. They were tingling, and a sort of warmth was spreading through his body. His feet began to tap an unfamiliar pattern on the ground, the need to move, but desire to stay warring. “Explain,” he got out.

“It was uh…we called it a mutual favor,” Alex said. “Nothing more than that.”

“Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson were fuck-buddies?!” Thomas asked, keeping his voice at a whisper, but the appropriate bewilderment coming through. “Is that what you’re telling me?!”

“Yes?” Alex offered.

“Oh my god,” Thomas said. He leaned back in his chair and pressed his palms flat to the table. “Wait,” he started. “Are you sure this isn’t just some elaborate plan to get me into bed? How do you even know I like guys?”

Alex shrugged. “Sexuality is usually consistent over lifetimes,” he said. “And I mean, it’s not unheard of for sex to be what brings the memories back.”

Thomas barked out a laugh. “You want to have sex with me in case I suddenly remember being Thomas Jefferson?!”

“I mean, even if it doesn’t work…”

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “Dear lord,” he breathed out. “You’re serious.”

Alex’s eyes brightened, and a smile - so wide it had to be at least partly put on - stretched across his face. “You’ll do it?”

“I…” Thomas sighed. “Sure.”

Worse comes to worse, it didn’t work. If it did? If he finally knew who he was? If it had the possibility of working and he didn’t take it, he’d never forgive himself. 

And if it was an elaborate hoax to get him into bed? Well, Alex was kinda cute.


	36. The king and queen have arranged it – you will be married to the child of the opposing nation so that peace may come to both our kingdoms.

Thomas did his best to swallow down the lump in his throat. It was useless - nothing he did was going to help his nerves. The frantic energy flowing through him wasn’t something he could get rid of. He just had to make sure that no one else could see it. After all, it was far from befitting of a prince to be seen in such a state, especially over a matter so simple as meeting with his parents.

He smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt as he stepped forward to doors, taking one last deep, calming breath in as the guards opened the doors and announced him.

“Mother,” he said, nodding his head. “Father.”

“Thomas,” his father said, voice as deep and serious as ever. “Thank you for joining us.”

They were in one of the receiving parlors, likely due to an upcoming meeting they had planned, but Thomas couldn’t help but be aware of the extra distance that came with the formal environment. They had other rooms for talks between family and close friends, smaller rooms. Rooms where the cushions were just a little more worn in and Thomas could remember running around them as a child as his parents laughed with each other over tea in the corner.

The sofa he sat on was stiff. These rooms weren’t meant to be comfortable. Meeting with the King and Queen of the nation was not meant to be an experience treated with familiarity. Topics of importance were discussed in this room, not the concerns of loving parents.

His mother cleared her throat. “Thomas,” she started, taking a short moment to pause after his name. “You have recently turned 22. You are no longer a boy.”

Thomas nodded. He pressed his fingers into his thighs with just the slightest more pressure, just enough to keep him focused enough so he didn’t fidget.

“As you know,” his father said. “You have a duty to this kingdom. The plan was to wait until you were older and ideally, we would not have any more of a hand in this than any other parents do. However, current tensions being what they are, we believe it best for you to marry Washington’s son.”

Thomas inhaled a sharp breath through his nose. He had expected this, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

He breathed out.

“I see,” he said. He nodded. “So I am to be wed to Jacky Custis?” 

Jacky was a simpering man who hid behind his mother’s skirts the same as he had as a young child. How a strong man like Washington could bear to claim relation was beyond Thomas’ understanding.

His mother snorted. “Absolutely not,” she said. “That boy would gamble and drink his way through the royal treasury within a year if he had his way. This marriage is a part of the treaty, yes, but it was Washington who approached us. He wouldn’t be so foolish as to offer Custis.”

“Then who?” Thomas asked, his curiosity making him sit up just a little straighter and lean forward. “Washington has no sons.”

“Not of his own blood, no,” his father confirmed. “But he has adopted a boy. There are rumors of the boy being a bastard, of course, but there is no evidence to back up such a claim.”

Thomas’ mouth dropped open. He was expected to marry Washington’s bastard? It didn’t matter if it wasn’t proven, if enough people believed it to be true it was as good as. 

“Now don’t look like that Thomas,” his mother chided. “Hamilton is said to be positively brilliant, both in military and political matters. Washington wouldn’t have taken the risk he did with the adoption had he not had full faith in the boy. Besides,” his mother’s mouth tilted up into a smirk. “I’ve heard that he has just the most gorgeous eyes ever seen.”

“Mother!” Thomas couldn’t help his affronted tone.

She shrugged. “Your new husband will be arriving within three days’ time. I expect you treat him with the upmost respect. It will work in your favor to have him actually like you, as you will be spending the rest of your life with him. If your inability to be civil is the cause for an outright war with Washington’s kingdom, do not think for one second you will be safe from my ire, or that of anyone else for that matter.” His mother’s gaze bore into him. “You do not want that blood on your hands, my son.”

Before Thomas could think of anything to say, one of his father’s advisors was announced by the guard. 

His father clapped his hands together. “Well then,” he said. “We both have our business to attend to. I wish to see you this evening in my study to further discuss this arrangement.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to come pester me at my [tumblr](http://ashilrak.tumblr.com)! :^))
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


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